


Like A Goddamn James Bond Movie

by Neapolitan



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gang AU, Jeremy and Michael's have a difficult relationship, M/M, Organised Crime AU, but they love each other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neapolitan/pseuds/Neapolitan
Summary: There was silence on the other end of the earpiece as he shifted gears again, forcing the off-road vehicle up the rocky slope. Michael only waited. It was only a matter of time before Jeremy finally said what he wanted to say. "Y'know, this could have been easier if you'd put the tracker on him like you were supposed to." And there it was.An Organised Crime AU no one asked for where Jeremy and Michael kinda hate each other but also very obviously do not





	Like A Goddamn James Bond Movie

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I had the idea of a BMC organised crime au for a while now but this is the first time I've physically written it. It's rlly short and rlly bad and I've been playing a lot of GTA V lately alright pls don't look at me

Michael shifted his 4-wheel drive into gear as he drove up the mountain, leaning heavily against the door with an arm dangling freely outside the rolled down window. Of course the man they had invited over to their hideout to talk business turned out to be an undercover cop. Of course Jake would tack the blame on him for no good reason. Of course they send him off on a scouting mission to find and eliminate the threat. Grunting more out of annoyance than in fatigue, the chubby Filipino reached across to the passenger side to fetch the box of cigarettes he kept hidden in the glove compartment, aiming to light one up to pass the time.

"Michael. What's your status?"

The driver in question flinched at the sudden voice of Jenna, their communications expert, violating the silence through the earpiece he wore. Grimacing, he all but threw the cigarette pack down and turned his attention back fully on the road. "I'm out 7 miles up the mount, still blind. Please tell me you located the guy. I'm driving in circles here."

The sound of clicking keys coupled with the rumbling of the engine filled the air as he waited for a response. This time, a different voice spoke. One he was instantly familiar with. "Target pinpointed," Jeremy droned, the sound of his typing never ceasing, never faltering as he spoke. "He's on the run, about… 8 miles from where you are right now, heading fast to the top."

"Awesome," Michael replied, his tone not exactly implying he was thrilled by the news. "I'm on it."

There was silence on the other end of the earpiece as he shifted gears again, forcing the off-road vehicle up the rocky slope. Michael only waited. It was only a matter of time before Jeremy finally said what he wanted to say. "Y'know, this could have been easier if you'd put the tracker on him like you were supposed to." And there it was.

"Look," Michael sighed, swerving smoothly to avoid a pothole. "Planting shit isn't my job. My job is getting the fuck out, flying the fuck up and occasionally shooting a fuck down. Nowhere is 'planting trackers on hit targets for the benefit of the pissy hacker' on my proverbial laundry list."

Jeremy exhaled sharply through his nose and if Michael picked up anything about the other male during their 2 year long dysfunctional acquaintanceship, it was how to tell when Jeremy was in a shitty mood.

Case and point.

"Well, guess what? Christine isn't here to do shit right now so you're next in line," Jeremy snapped. He had stopped typing now, choosing to focus solely on lecturing the chubby pilot. "What's the line for? Well, I'm glad you fucking asked because right now it's the Death Row if you don't shut this guy down."

Michael rolled his eyes at his roommates melodrama. Trust Jeremy to make a mountain out of an anthill. Chuckling drily, he manoeuvred the car around a bend with ease, the tourist shack at the top of the mountain finally coming into view. "I guess _somebody_ has to do all the dirty work as opposed to, oh, let's say sitting on their ass all day tapping at a machine surrounded by piles of unearned money."

Jeremy huffed indignantly. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means."

"I don't think I do, Red Riding Hood. Why don't you enlighten me on its hidden meaning?" A playful lilt accented Jeremy's mocking words, hinting to something else entirely. Michael grinned, eager to participate in this game of his.

"Why don't you make me, Matrix boy?"

Jenna's sharp sigh filtered through his earpiece and Michael was reminded that Jeremy wasn't alone in the room. "Children, stop flirting over comms. Save it for after we eliminate the threat. Michael, the target's a newbie and an idiot. Inexperienced, unarmed, panicked. Should be an easy enough kill if it makes a difference. Don't think we need to send in backup."

"Makes all the difference, Jen, so no backup. Unless the wife is worried I'll get hurt."

Jeremy huffed. "Get fucked, weed sock."

"They're in love with each other, I swear. You can cut through the sexual tension with a butter knife." Rich's voice was slightly muffled and distant due to his lack of comm unit but Michael still heard him perfectly. He snorted, picturing Jeremy's flushed face and indignant expression as he shooed Rich out of the room. "No one asked you. Michael, you're approaching the guy now."

Brain snapping back to business mode, Michael slowed to a stop and pulled the hand break, ensuring that he wouldn't go rolling right back down the mountain. "Cool. I'm parking a little ways off. Gonna sneak up on him."

"If he doesn't hear your earth shattering footsteps first," Jeremy snarked, the sound of typing returning with full force as the hacker tried to pinpoint an exact location through the target's mobile phone signal.

Michael huffed as he shut the door quietly, not wanting to give away his position. He made a show of raising his middle fingers to the sky as if it were making all the difference. "I'm flipping you off right now, you can't see it 'cause there's no CCT here."

"He can be taught."

Making his way to the top of the mountain, Michael drew out his combat pistol, holding it at the ready. It wasn't often that he had to use his gun, or any of his weapons for that matter. His primary job was transport, piloting and getaway. Vary rarely was he subjected to the crossfire of a gunfight but despite this he was still a very capable gunman.

Silently, Michael crept across the grassy slope, keeping an eye and ear out for the target. He approached the side of the shack, back against the wall as he listened for even the slightest shift of clothing against skin or shoes against grass. A stumble and a pained gasp caught his attention and he was suddenly face to face with a frightened man in a now tattered suit. It seemed so easy, so simple for Michael to just line up a shot and fire. But something wasn't right.

A searing pain burst across the nerves of his right arm, sending him reeling back towards the shack, leaning up against splintering wood. The man was holding a smoking flare gun, arms locked and trembling. The shot stunned Michael long enough for the target to flee, discarding the flare gun in his wake. Michael dropped his pistol and gripped at his arm, drawing his hand away after a moment to pick the gun back up again. Blood dripped from his fingers and Michael watched in morbid curiosity as the thick liquid slid across his hand and down his wrist. "Fuck."

"What's wrong? Michael, what's happening?"

Michael chuckled humourlessly. "Fucking bastard. Unarmed my asshole."

"What's the status? Are you okay? Talk to me."

"Fucker pulled a flare gun out of nowhere." Michael hissed as he gingerly poked at the wound. Torn, he concluded before trudging off to find the rat once again. "Must've raided the shack for it. Fuck it stings."

Jeremy fell silent, the tapping stopped completely as he froze. "Y-you're hit?" quaked the hacker, uncharacteristically worried about Michael's wellbeing.

"Grazed my arm." He sugar-coated it, leaving out the bleeding part which had now switched from lightly to profusely the more he moved and opened the wound. He bit his lip.

"Fucking— Jenna, get Chloe over there."

"What? No, I'm fine. I'll pop this fucker in a second." He could hear the target scrambling down the path, attempting to get away from his pursuer.

"Flare guns only fire one flare. I doubt he'll find anything else in there," Jenna cut in, her voice composed as per the norm, although her tone held a concerned lilt as Michael's breathing pattern became haggard and rough.

"You don't fucking know that," Jeremy yelled, spiralling into hysterics.

Michael felt the almost overwhelming urge to reassure him and attempted to get a handle on his situation, adopting a calm tone to soothe his partner's panic. "Dude, I'm fine. I can see him now, he's freaking out. Shouldn't be that—"

"Jenna, get Chloe's fucking sniper ass up the goddamn mountain or I _swear to God_ —"

"Jeremy, please, calm do—"

"Fuck you, Michael!" he screeched, cutting Michael off and taking everyone present by surprise. " _Fuck_ you! Last time you went without backup you were taken to ICU!" That particular time, cautiously dubbed the Smartphone Hour, was before the Code Red Crew existed, back when they were working for the SQUIP. Jeremy had hacked into the hospitals database to put Michael and Rich first in line for treatment to ensure that they would live. He acted as if nothing had changed, like he was annoyed at Michael for getting himself into hospital but Brooke had informed him that Jeremy had been an absolute wreck and had never left his bedside the entire time he was passed out. Michael always felt a little guilty for doing that to him but of course he never showed it. Besides, he wasn't about to admit that he did the same for Jeremy after they'd defeated the SQUIP, sitting at his beside and never letting go of his hand when he was put in a medically induced coma. Michael didn't like thinking about it and promptly turned it off.

"He's not gonna set a fire up here, Jeremy. Please, calm down."

Jeremy seemed to falter at the memory as well but had no trouble launching into another one. "There's still a cliff! Remember cliffs?" Michael flinched almost violently at that. He definitely remembered cliffs.

"Dude, it's fine. I'm fine. I'm not anywhere close to the cliff. This guy's not Eric. Wait…" He spotted the target, hiding poorly in a bush and quaking in fear as Michael stopped and looked straight at him. They let this guy into the NJPD? Michael shook his head and took the shot. "Look, there, he's dead. Headshot. It's okay. Stop freaking out, you're gonna have an panic attack."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line and Michael took this time to examine the body for any bugs or wires on his person. He crushed the tiny camera and recorder under his boot and tore out the wires in the radio transmitter before tucking it into his pocket. Jeremy might appreciate some new police grade toys to play with. Michael sighed, ripping a makeshift bandage out of the corpses shirt and wrapping it tightly around his wound. He dragged the rat back closer to his car so he could get to the real gritty work that came with the job.

A hammer was used to take out his teeth. Not the best method in regards to personal comfort but the most effective. With the teeth removed and Michael thoroughly disgusted, he torched the body and climbed into his car after crushing whatever remained of the very recently former undercover officer.

His earpiece crackled again and Michael steeled himself for another round of yelling and accusations. What he didn't expect was Jeremy's soft voice echoing gently in his head. "You get your dumb ass back here and let Brooke look at you."

Michael reversed down the track to turn around, answering Jeremy as he did in a tone he hoped was reassuring. "Seriously, Jer, I'm okay. I can do it myself."

"Please. It'll make me feel better."

At this, Michael paused. It was quite unlike Jeremy to show that he actually truly was worried about the pilot. Their line of work made relationships difficult and usually the extent of the others concern was displayed through annoyed grunts and disguised insults. Nevertheless, Michael felt warm at the prospect of Jeremy being concerned for his wellbeing and with Jeremy's voice sounding so sweet in his ear, it made it all the more difficult to say no.

"Fine.… asshole."

"Dickhead."

And that was about as close to an _I love you_ as either of them were willing to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Some background info for those interested in the au:
> 
> \- Everyone's obviously much older, like 23-25  
> \- Jeremy's a hacker, Michael's a licensed pilot and getaway driver, Christine is planning and infiltration, Jenna is communications and information sourcing, Rich and Jake are gunmen and former mercenaries, Chloe's a sniper, Brooke is medical  
> \- Michael and Jeremy had never met until they both started working under the SQUIP gang  
> \- they started out as just hired staff and developed a rocky "acquaintanceship" during that time  
> \- they also have very obvious feelings for each other but relationships are dangerous in their line of work so they mostly act like they barely tolerate each other  
> \- Eric was the leader of SQUIP, often just referred to as Squip bc he's practically is the whole gang  
> \- Eric was a piece of garbage trash who treated the poor children like shit, especially Jeremy  
> \- he made Jeremy his apprentice of sorts and manipulated him, used conditioning to try and make Jeremy as cold and unfeeling as him  
> \- the rest of the squad picked up on this and went "heck nah"  
> \- they tried to break out of the gang but Eric was a huge bitching bastard  
> \- he sent Michael and Rich on a mission to a warehouse for a trade and promptly trapped them inside and set it on fire  
> \- and when Jeremy approached him and told him where to stick it, he locked him up  
> \- he tortured Jeremy to get the location of where everyone was hiding and cornered them  
> \- there was a big fight, Eric tried to throw Michael off a cliff  
> \- eventually Jeremy caught up and shot Eric dead  
> \- they reconciled and after they destroyed the SQUIP gang from the inside out, now they have their own gang (with blackjack and hookers)  
> \- Michael and Jeremy have a rough relationship built up of banter and disguised concern for each other because they're both emotionally stunted but they love each other
> 
> Also let it be known that I know nothing about organised crime and hacking. The most criminal thing i can do is pick locks and hot-wire old cars and even then it's mostly theory and I'm rlly bad at it pls don't call the police


End file.
